


Beneficence

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Thirst teased us with gay so I had to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Starscream, a little show of compassion can go a long way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneficence

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after _Thirst_.

“Welcome back,” comes Knockout’s greeting from somewhere within the haze that has overtaken his processor. “You’re in the medbay. Starscream, blink twice if you understand what I’m saying.”

Though it feels as if it takes an inordinate amount of energy to do so, Starscream complies. His optics take a moment to adjust to the bright surgical light overhead; in his state of mind he can almost swear that it’s Primus himself, beckoning him to the Allspark.

But Megatron would never allow such a thing to come to pass if he had not willed it. Starscream grimaces as he’s assaulted by a barrage of memories, each a fragment of this latest beating. Megatron had handled him as only a seasoned warrior can, beating him to the very brink but never beyond it, knowing just how far to push without breaking. For how could Megatron continue to make an example out of him if he were dead?

He’d blacked out sometime during the onslaught, after the mangling of a wing that left the delicate sensors in an agonized frenzy, but before the breaking of his leg, which he notices has since been welded beneath the patella. He attempts to move the limb and examine both the extent of the damage as well as his recovery, but a fresh wave of pain and a servo on his thigh stop him.

“Don’t try to move,” Knockout says. His vocals are oddly gentle, lacking their usual flippancy that has a way of provoking superior officers. “I’ve repaired the worst of the damage but you still need time to recover. That means plenty of rest and no exerting yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Starscream hisses out between gritted denta, but despite his protests he can’t muster the energy to attempt an escape. A searing pain in his chassis keeps him rooted to the medical berth. “Don’t treat me like some _invalid._ I’ve survived worse.”

“And I would appreciate it if you didn’t give me that scrap,” Knockout admonishes. He leaves his servo firmly planted, keeping the enfeebled Seeker reclined on the berth. “Acting tough isn’t going to expedite your recovery. Nor is it going to impress me, but I’m flattered that you’re willing to put on a show for me.”

That teasing lilt returns, if just for a moment, and the normalcy of it helps Starscream to relax a bit. He cycles his vents, and when each ventilation of air causes his plating to expand and contract slightly he notices the series of cables still attached to various ports on his frame. Tilting his helm to the side, he sees a monitor displaying the results of some diagnostic scans. Though many of the readouts are beyond him, he still recognizes the pulse of his spark being mapped out.

Still beating. Still alive. Another brush with death facilitated by the brutality of his lord survived.

“What happened while I was out?” Starscream asks. He offlines his optics as he does an internal scan of his own, taking note of the most egregious injuries. Despite Knockout’s work, he still registers a great deal of pain running along the circuitry throughout his frame. 

“Megatron wasn’t too pleased, as I’m sure you can imagine,” Knockout replies as he rummages through his medical supplies. “But I’m...sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”

Starscream gives an affirmative grunt.

“He’s doubling down on the troops that we do have left,” Knockout continues. “More shifts, and longer ones, at that. He’s getting desperate, if you couldn’t tell. The one soldier that protested got a fusion cannon to the face. Some would call him brave, but _I_ personally find it stupid. Standing up against a megalomanic is always a losing battle.”

Knockout produces a vial and syringe from his tray and begins prepping the instrument while Starscream watches in silence.

“The painkillers I administered earlier have probably worn off by now,” Knockout says as he takes his patient’s forearm. “This should help dull some of it, but this is the last dose I can safely give you for a while.”

“Thank you,” Starscream says as the drug is injected into an energon line, and he settles back against the berth as he waits for it to take effect. 

He doesn’t immediately notice that Knockout has fetched yet another tool - albeit one of a less medical nature; something that certainly caters more to vanity than necessity - until Knockout switches the device on. The rotary buffer comes to life with a hum, and Starscream winces as the sound strikes his recovering audials. 

“Must you buff your finish _now?_ ” Starscream huffs, but his protestations end when Knockout begins to buff not his own chassis, but one of Starscream’s damaged wings. Scratches of various depths mar the surface of it, as do a series of recovering punctures and dents, and Knockout begins working away at the tip.

“Keep up that attitude and I’ll stop,” he says, but his tone carries no real sense of threat. “Just let me do this. The full treatment, no extra charge. I’m just that nice.”

Starscream rolls his optics but nonetheless allows Knockout to continue. Though his abused flight sensors initially react negatively to the sudden pressure, they soon adjust to the soothing motion of the buffer and instead relay pleasure signals across his sensornet. His wing flickers involuntarily at the stimulation, and he lets out a sigh of satisfaction.

“If you’re good, I might even treat you to some of the oils in my collection,” Knockout murmurs in his audial, his voice low and slightly mischievous. “Since I’m just feeling that generous.”

As Knockout approaches the base of his wing, Starscream rolls over onto his front to provide better access. “Keep making promises like that and I might just forgive you for this mess.”

Knockout laughs; a sound almost as calming as the feel of the instrument he wields. “Need I remind you that this whole ordeal started because of _your_ idea?”

“Shut up,” Starscream mutters into the berth, but Knockout can see a smile tugging at his lips.

“Whatever you say, _Herr Commandant.”_

Starscream practically purrs as one wing is buffed to completion and Knockout moves on to the next. Though Breakdown’s skill was always touted, the title of ‘maestro’ can also be attributed to the medic and his steady servos that seem to know how to apply just the right amount of pressure. The painkillers also work wonders, allowing Starscream to shift his focus away from the rapidly numbing aches and instead on Knockout’s careful ministrations.

“Now you’re starting to look more like an Air Commander,” Knockout says as he finishes the second aileron. “Though it looks like your chassis could use a little more work.”

“Megatron is nothing if not thorough,” Starscream grumbles as Knockout begins buffing his back. “I’ve learned that over the years.”

Knockout frowns as he works away at a gash above the junction of Starscream’s thigh. “I’ve certainly seen more than a few instances of this...treatment, in the time I’ve been here. Was it always like this?”

“Does it matter?”

_For far too long, then_ Knockout notes to himself. As he works his way down he notices that Starscream’s legs seem to have taken the brunt of the attack; most likely the Seeker had been curled up in a defensive position during the assault, and the series of wounds crisscrossing along the length of them attest to how successful an attempt that was.

“Why are you concerned with the nature of our relationship, anyway?” Starscream asks. His helm - now pillowed on his arms - is facing the other direction, so Knockout can’t get a read on his expression.

“Do I need a reason? Here - turn over. I’m done with this side.”

Starscream does as directed, paying careful attention to his newly repaired wings as he does so. “I would assume so. That’s just the way the world works. We only express sympathy if we have something to gain in return. Even the _Autobots_ are no different.”

“Mhm,” Knockout simply replies, but his brows furrow. 

He halts his questioning as he goes about finishing with the buffer. Though Starscream is still marked with evidence of his wounds, those along the surface have been mitigated at least, returning some shine to his frame. Placing the buffer back on his tray, Knockout grabs a bottle and pours some of its contents on one servo before rubbing both together. Starscream raises a brow as the medic approaches him with lubricated palms.

“One of those oils I mentioned,” Knockout explains. He reaches for a leg. “May I?”

Starscream hesitates before tentatively offering it.

“This does wonders for the joints,” Knockout says as he begins applying the oil along the length of the leg, paying special attention to Starscream’s finely crafted pede. “Your protomesh will appreciate it as well. _And_ it gives you that extra bit of shine.”

“You’re lucky I share your taste in such luxuries,” Starscream says as he relishes the feel of the liquid seeping between every seam. 

“Well we _are_ mechs of a more refined taste,” Knockout drawls as he moves on to the next leg.

“Indeed we are.”

They continue on in silence for a while. Starscream listens to the whirr of the machine next to him as it continues to register the influx of data from its connected cables, as well as the gentle humming of Knockout as he goes about pampering him with the skilled servos known to all Cybertronian medics. 

It’s after Knockout has finished lavishing his wings that he clears his intake and speaks.

“Knockout.”

“Hm?” Knockout responds as he begins wiping his palms with a cloth. “Was your treatment not to your liking?”

“No, it’s...something else.” He cycles his vents, expelling warm air. “What you said, earlier - did you mean it?”

“I’ve said a lot of things today, Starscream. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Starscream scoffs and clenches a servo, ignoring the pain from his freshly repaired digits. “Don’t play games with me. You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about!”

Knockout sets aside his tools and takes a seat at his patient’s side once more. “Ah. That.”

“Well?” Starscream presses. “Did you?”

For a moment, he considers just brushing it off, attributing his comment to the heat of the moment. Imminent death has a way of inspiring slips of the glossa, after all. But then there’s that hint of desperation in Starscream’s vocals, a pleading look present in his optics, and suddenly Knockout can’t quite bring himself to be cruel.

“Yes. But then I have to ask you the same thing.”

Starscream doesn’t immediately respond. He’s processing Knockout’s confession, overanalyzing every possible inflection and double meaning to rule out any sort of possibility for a wrong interpretation - for rejection. 

“So you find me...attractive,” he murmurs.

“Does that really come as a surprise?” Knockout places a servo on the medical berth; no quite touching Starscream, but bringing him closer. “I doubt there are many that would disagree. And I’ll have you know, my tastes usually run a little different.”

Of course. He had mentioned Breakdown, but did that diminish the compliment, or does his status as an exception bolster it? Starscream’s wings twitch as he considers the implications.

“...I did too,” he eventually says. “Mean what I said. Despite our differences, I have enjoyed working with you. At times you’ve felt like my only ally.”

Knockout could sing praises to his brilliant powers of deduction.

“Someone has to look out for our dear _Commandant,”_ Knockout says with a smirk. 

His servo slowly migrates towards Starscream’s, his digits exploring, asking for permission. Starscream opens his own in acceptance, allowing Knockout to intertwine them. 

“Don’t forget what I said before,” Knockout murmurs. “You need to start taking better care of yourself.”

Starscream gives a despondent smile. “If only it were that easy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to give writing this pairing a try. I adore them, so I'm hoping to write more for them in the future.


End file.
